


to my word now I'll be true

by theragingstorm



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Porn with Feelings, Post-Crisis, Pre-Flashpoint, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vulnerability, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theragingstorm/pseuds/theragingstorm
Summary: A chance night becomes something more.





	to my word now I'll be true

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dibs4Ever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dibs4Ever/gifts).



> Title from Seafret’s “Wildfire,” which I listened to probably way too much while writing this.

He never would’ve guessed what would happen that night.

Fully uniformed, Dick stood on the edge of a rooftop and looked down at his city through the lenses of his mask: the cars flashing by no bigger than his fingernail, the people the size of insects, the heights and the flashing neon like a balm to his fast-beating heart and constantly-moving mind. Dirty, disgusting Gotham City was still beautiful to him, especially under the velvet carpet of darkness.

Even more so because it was an unusually pleasant summer evening. The smog was thinner than normal over the sprawling skyline, and the air ruffling through his hair was warm and gentle, neither dry nor humid, and smelled fresher, like it was sweeping in from over the sea. The odd star winked through the dark sky, and the entire city glittered like a million spots of quartz set in rectangular steel mountains.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the air of his old home.

Bludhaven had to wait for tonight. He had a routine fly-by to attend to, and though it might be routine, he was looking forward to it.

The grapple shot out, and he swung through downtown towards Old Gotham, billboards as tall as Wayne Manor, advertising everything from lingerie to Zesti-Cola, people working late in their high-rise offices or watching TV in their apartments turning to gawk at him through their windows. Occasionally, he would smile and wave at them, making more than one man gasp or woman squeal excitedly.

But it wasn’t until he entered the realm of old brownstones and Victorian houses that made up Old Gotham that his spirits _truly_ lifted. He landed on the building across from the old Clock Tower, aiming his grapple one last time at the balcony on the very top floor. He knew that the Clock Tower had undergone some serious renovations recently, both before and after the earthquake, and he knew that it was because, for the first time in over a hundred years, there was someone living and working there.

Dick swung up and grabbed the handrail of the balcony, pulling himself up. He balanced for a moment on the rim, before touching down lightly. Upon reaching the glass balcony doors, he lifted a black-and-blue gloved hand and knocked loudly and brightly.

The doors slid open automatically, and he went inside, expecting to see the occupant hard at work at her computer station.

He was surprised to see her on the couch instead, the TV on and flickering with gray light. She was in white cotton pajamas patterned with blue flowers, Audrey Hepburn-style, but her glasses were falling down her nose and her beautiful red hair was tied up in a messy bun. Her wheelchair was parked right next to the couch, and her hands were clasped around a large green-glazed mug, nail polish chipped, her strong fingers still bearing the same rough callouses she’d had since before she was Batgirl.

“And here I thought you’d be burning the midnight oil.”

Barbara started, turning his way. Upon seeing him, she smiled, and his heart gave an involuntary little flutter.

“I already burned the eleven-o-clock oil an hour ago, and Dinah doesn’t need anything else from me tonight.” She set down her mug on the coffee table and stretched her arms upwards. “What’s up? Must be big if you came here personally.”

“Not _too_ big.” He dug around in one of the hidden pockets in his suit and came up with a thumb drive. “Got those files from City Hall you wanted. Figured they were too sensitive to attach in an email.”

Their hands momentarily clasped as she accepted the thumb drive. Her palm and fingers were indeed as rough as they looked, but he savored her touch nonetheless.

She blushed faintly — his heart beat faster again — then she pulled her hand away and set the thumb drive down on the table.

“Not too shabby, Boy Wonderful.”

“I try, Babs. I try.”

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, but there were still plenty more hanging around her face. He reached out, brushing them back, and he saw her blush intensify from shell-pink to peony.

How was it, he wondered, that only a few touches could get them both so excited? How was it that his heart _still_ sped up when she smiled at him an entire eight years after it first had?

“It’s a slow night in Bludhaven, but I could go help Bruce and Tim, if you want to finish your show. But I mean, only if —”

“I’d like you to stay here.” She kept eye contact with him. He felt acutely aware of how her eyelashes fluttered slightly, but her gaze was steady, her voice full of conviction.

His heart leapt.

“I’m really glad. I haven’t hung out with you in a while.”

“You talk to me on the coms all the time.”

“Please tell me you know that’s not the same thing.”

“Point,” she acknowledged, smiling. “I’ve got enough water left in the kettle for another cup of tea, if you’ll just hang on a minute.”

“Don’t get up. I can do it.”

“You’re in my house. And _I_ can do it,” she said a little more forcefully than necessary. He actually took a step back, lifting his hands.

“Barbara.” He put a little more steel into his own voice. “I don’t think you’re incompetent. I just don’t want to inconvenience you.”

She started a bit. Then she sighed and dipped her head, her glasses slipping further down her nose.

“You never inconvenience me.” Her voice had become soft again.

“And I never think that little of you. There’s nothing wrong with being helped, that’s all.”

She pressed her hand to her mouth and took a moment to breathe.

Then she maneuvered back into her wheelchair, moving to the kitchen to make him some tea.

Dick, for his part, peeled off his mask and kicked off his boots, jumping up onto the other side of the couch. The show was one he wasn’t familiar with, some crime drama with a morally gray female lead; he watched, trying to figure out which character was which and what was going on already.

Barbara reappeared with a fresh mug, and he watched her move out of her chair again, passing him the mug and curling into his side. Almost unconsciously, he wrapped his arm around her.

“Did you hear Clark and Lois are getting married?”

“Did I!” She craned her head around to look at him. “Apparently Tim got an earful from Superboy about it. I take it you’re excited?”

“Of course, it’s fantastic.” He shifted slightly in place, letting them both get more comfortable. “That after all these years of will-they-won’t-they they’re deciding to commit to each other, to be with each other for the rest of their lives...I’m so happy for them.”

“Well, I dunno about marriage, to be honest, but if they want it, then that’s good. And it could definitely be worse on the romance front, I heard Kyle broke up with his girlfriend.”

“Yeah, so did John. It’s not been a great few years for Green Lanterns, huh? First Hal gets all Parallaxed, then we get Guy —”

“ _Don’t_ bring up Guy. I can hear —” She put a hand to her ear, pretending to listen to something in the distance. “Yep, I can hear Dinah bitching about him from all the way across the country at the very mention of his name.”

Dick laughed.

“Nothing I haven’t heard before. Bruce has done his fair share of bitching about Guy, I promise you.”

“Have you heard her going on about Guy’s clone? Because that’s something you don’t wanna hear.”

“Guy has a clone?”

“An alien clone, yes.”

“She and Tim should start a support group.”

This time, she was the one who laughed. It warmed him to the core; he had to drink his tea to cover up the sudden rush of blood to his cheeks.

“Yeah, probably. Hey, did he tell you that he added new members to his team?”

“I did! Did he tell you what’s going on with him and Steph?”

“Well...”

The episode ended and a new one began, and the two of them kept on talking. The conversation stretched past Tim’s relationships to the woes of Vixen’s new modeling job to how cute Donna’s baby was to Aquaman yelling at climate change deniers on the news to how Bruce should really set up a business deal with Power Girl’s Starrware Labs, shouldn’t he?

Barbara’s phone chimed, and Dick looked over with a start, realizing that nearly forty-five minutes had passed and he hadn’t felt the time slipping by at all.

She picked it up and swiftly replied to the text, then set it aside.

“Who was that?”

“My regular pizza guy. I think he’s convinced we’re soulmates.”

He knew it was wrong, but he was pleased by how dismissive she sounded towards the idea.

“Did you tell him that you used to be a librarian and did he tell you that he read Hemingway in high school once?”

“Dick, don’t live up to your name.” The phone chimed again, and she wrote _I’m_ _going_ _to_ _sleep,_ _Mikey_ before putting it on silent.

“Sorry. I just...it’s not surprising to me that you’ve got all these guys lined up around the block, and I can hardly believe sometimes that out of all of them, you picked me.”

“Oh please, Dick.” She reached up and tugged at another loose strand of hair. “My days of having all the guys in love with me are long gone.”

She wasn’t able to put her hand down before he caught it in his.

“What about me?”

All of a sudden, he was deadly serious. He could tell she knew it, because her eyes had suddenly gone very wide.

“You know I’m in love with you.”

“Dick, I...”

“I love you,” he insisted. His heart didn’t skip a beat this time, it thundered. “And I’m not the only one. Lots of guys, lots of women too actually, they think you’re fantastic, you’re brilliant, you’re gorgeous. They’re in awe of you. I’m in awe of you too. Why is that hard for you to believe?”

Barbara ducked her head, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

“‘Gorgeous’? I think you may have me confused with another Barbara Gordon from years ago.” Her voice was bitter. “Dick, if you’re just carrying this over from when we were young —”

“ _No_ ,” he snapped, insistent. For once, she stopped talking. “This has nothing to do with the past. I love you _now_. I think you’re beautiful and strong and amazing now. I’ve thought that since you became Oracle, paralysis and all, I’ve _wanted_ you —”

Dick realized he’d said too much and immediately cut himself off. 

Barbara looked at him very carefully. Her expression changed, like she was seeing him in a new light.

“What do you mean you’ve wanted me?”

“I —” he stammered. “I, uh...”

He thought of the shy and tender kisses they’d shared, the excited and passionate kisses they’d shared, how up till then they’d just been cuddling and touching and making out, and during all that he’d had to be careful to wear stiff pants and not press up against her so as not to alarm her with his want. How when he was alone in his little Bludhaven apartment on his rickety twin bed, he’d cry out her name while he thought about her, really _thought_ about her, throughout the lonely night. 

His face got even hotter.

“Go on.”

“N — never mind. Forget it. You don’t want to hear about it.” He turned away again, reaching across the coffee table for the remote.

So when she seized him by the front of his costume, the remote fell face-down and the TV clicked off as she kissed him.

For a moment, he was so shocked, he couldn’t do anything, just register that her lips were on his, that her strong hands were gripping the front of his costume, that she was pulling him forward until he was almost lying on top of her.

Then he kissed her back. He lay against her, cupping her face with one hand, reaching up with the other and tugged the tie out of her hair, letting it loose, tangling his fingers in her bright locks. Her hands wrapped around his back, pulling him close; he opened his mouth into hers, deepening the kiss.

He felt very aware of her breasts pressed up against her chest. Of how she was licking into his mouth, the slight pressure of her nails even through the Kevlar. He took her thigh in hand and carefully, almost tentatively, hoisted it, wrapping her leg around his waist before he realized that was a mistake. His hands trembled against her body, he realized that his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight. All the blood in his body seemed to pound hot against his arteries, the heat pooling low in his belly, intensifying his arousal.

She pulled him flat against her body, and he prayed she wouldn’t feel him through their clothes —

— But he saw how her eyes grew wide again and he knew that she did.

She pulled slightly away, breaking the kiss.

“You really do want me, don’t you?”

He felt himself flush harder.

“I — I won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

“That’s very sweet,” she said gently. Then all of a sudden, her voice dropped to a low, firm timbre. “But it’s not an answer.”

“I...I do. I do want you.”

She shook her head slowly.

“Can I still do that to a man?” she murmured, almost to herself. One of her hands slipped off his back and in between the two of them, he lifted himself up slightly as her fingertips ran down over the body armor that now felt too heavy and too restrictive. Her touch stopped just around his navel.

“You can touch more if you want,” he said, then, boldly: “See for yourself what you do to me.”

Her eyebrows shot up. Then, almost shyly, her hand moved down from his belly to his hip, then she stroked her fingertips over his crotch. Her touch made another jolt of blood shoot down to his groin; he gasped, moaning softly.

“Take off the uniform.” Her voice had dropped low again.

Dick didn’t need to be told twice. He sat up, unzipping and peeling off the black fabric, shucking it aside, until he sat opposite to her, wearing nothing but his jockstrap, his growing erection still straining against it.

She sat up a bit too, and her eyes took him in, every inch of his bare body, his pinkish scars and fresh purple bruises against light brown skin. He had to fight off the almost-bashful urge to cover his groin with his hands, suddenly feeling every touch of the cool air against his hot skin, feeling as shy as a virgin, wondering if she liked what she saw.

Barbara, still fully clothed, gently reached forward, slipping her fingers under the straps and sliding them down his legs. She teased the jock off, he felt incredibly aware of her hands on his thighs and hips; when she got it off her eyes widened again at him, at seeing fully hard, red and leaking and beginning to ache for her.

Dick nervously rubbed at the back of his neck.

“You okay?”

She looked up at him over the tops of her glasses.

“You’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be.”

His chest flooded with further warmth, with affection and love, so that he could believe her when she said that he was beautiful.

So maybe she could believe it when he said it.

He extended his hand toward the buttons on her pajama top — and it was then that Barbara withdrew, pulling away to the back of the couch.

He swallowed down his disappointment, ignored his near-painful desire as he said:

“Oh, okay. If you don’t want to right now, we don’t have to.”

“It’s not that. It’s...” She seized a strand of her hair, twisting it in hand. “Dick, I don’t know if you want to see me naked.”

He stared at her.

“Yeah, yeah, I know how that sounds. But I don’t know if...if it’s going to live up to your expectations. Fuck, I...I’m as white as paste, I’ve got freckles everywhere and they look like they were sprayed on against my fucking white skin, my thighs and ass are huge from sitting down all the time, I’ve got so many stretch marks on my tits and hips I look like a zebra and this awful birthmark on my ass, and however ugly you think that fucking bullet scar is, it’s at least twice that, I...” She shook her head.

Dick sighed softly, his heart aching.

“Barbara, I wish you wouldn’t say that about yourself. I promise I’m not going to think you’re ugly.”

She dropped her head again, her hair falling over her shoulder. One of her hands reached out and clasped his; he held it tight.

“Barbara. Please talk to me.”

She exhaled hard.

“Okay. Dick, I promise I do want you too, _so_ much. You look fucking amazing, you always do; trust me, I’ve noticed.” He sat up a tiny bit straighter, despite himself. Her compliments were the sort that often felt disconcerting coming from most women, but natural and pleasurable from her.

In the meantime, he kept listening.

“So it’s not that I don’t feel the same. I just don’t really understand how you can still want me as I am.”

He gave her another kiss.

“I’ll show you. Just tell me what to do.”

Of all the reactions he thought he’d get, he wasn’t expecting her pupils to dilate, her shoulders to shake slightly; a slight pulse of exhilaration went through him.

“Well, to start with...” she murmured. Then, out loud: “We’re going back to my bedroom. We are _not_ doing this for the first time on the _couch_.”

Excited, he got to his feet, then extended his hands on impulse.

“Dick, you don’t have to carry me.”

“I know. But I want to.”

She hesitated for a moment...then nodded.

He scooped her up in his arms, the walk to her bedroom only taking moments. But he relished the feeling of holding her close, pressed up against his bare skin.

He was almost reluctant to lay her down on the bed, but that only lasted as long as it took for her to reach for the buttons on her pajama top.

“Can I?”

Her brows furrowed.

“Please?”

It took a second, but Barbara nodded slowly, letting him kneel over her. His fingers undid the buttons, then slowly peeled off her top with one hand and slid her pants off with the other. She shied back again, twisting her head to the side and covering her mouth with her hand.

Dick brushed her pajamas off the bed and stared openly at her body, cast in silvery light from the window. How her pale skin seemed to almost glow, her freckles and scars mapping across her body like constellations. The bullet scar billowing over her lower waist like leftovers from a supernova, he hated that it existed, but it was still part of her. The power evident in her upper body, her defined arms and planed, muscular stomach. The lush fullness of her round hips and breasts, marked as they were with silvery stretch marks. Even her legs, which had lost their toned strength along with their ability to work, were lovely to him, dotted with even more freckles and scars, scars he’d been there for. They’d known each other for so long, cared about each other long before he’d fallen for her, and she thought _this_ would turn him away?

His hands reached out and cupped her upper abdomen, just under her breasts, and he bent his head and kissed the bullet scar.

Barbara gasped aloud.

He kept kissing across her belly, to each mark on her skin, with a featherlight touch, not quite believing he had the privilege of having survived all that had happened to them and being able to be with her like this.

He felt her fingers touch his head, caressing over it, and he felt her fingers trace over the scars mapping across his skin, so gentle with his old injuries. She hadn’t been there for as many of his, but he wished she had, wished she could be there for as much of his life as possible from then on —

Then she knotted her fingers in his hair, tugging firmly. So he grew bolder, sucking at her collarbone before kissing her tits, running his tongue over one puckered nipple and sucking until she cried out.

“You’re so good,” she gasped, “Oh God, you’re so good —”

Her words went straight to his cock; he was fully hard for her now. He pulled off, she let go of his hair and sat up, brushing her hair over one shoulder. When she looked at him, he saw that the green in her eyes had nearly been swallowed up by the black.

Dick moved around her until his chest was pressed up against her back, his legs bracketing her hips. He was certain that she could feel him rutting up against the small of her back, leaking precum, even the slightest motion against her body made him breathe hard.

She seemed about to lift herself up and sink down on him, but before she could, he rested his head against hers, then snaked a hand around and parted her thighs.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” she rasped.

“Do you not want —”

“No, I do.” She reached up and clutched his hair again with one hand. The slight pain made him groan with pleasure. “Don’t stop.”

He kissed her cheek, then moved her thighs a little farther open and slipped his hand between them, catching his breath. Brushing past auburn curls to her swollen pink lips, he found that she was nearly impossibly wet, musky-smelling arousal smearing her thighs and dripping down his hand.

He slipped one finger inside of her and gasped aloud; she was blood-hot and velvety slick, and she groaned loud and low at his touch. Encouraged, Dick slid in another finger, pressing his thumb to her swollen red clit, rubbing it while his fingers curled inside her pussy.

Barbara’s breaths were sporadic, her body shuddering. He curled his fingers, pressing the tip to a little rough spot, making her arch her back and shriek. His unoccupied hand cupped her tit, squeezing gently at first, then with more roughness as she yanked ruthlessly at his head. He was so hard now that it _hurt_ , but he still kept up his ministrations on her, not letting her go unattended for a second, breathing hard as she cried out against him.

“Am I — am I hurting you?”

“No, no,” she gasped. “You are — you’re fantastic.”

“It’s all for you.” He buried his face in her shoulder, the pull of his hair and the raw emotions making tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh...” She let out a soft sigh. “How — how did I get this lucky?”

His chest radiated heat; he pressed down on her clit and in moments she was coming all over his hand. He lifted his hand away, messy and wet as it was, and she seized it in hers, licking her own cum off his fingers.

He shuddered involuntarily, groaning low in his throat.

“Fuck that. _I’m_ the lucky one.”

“Dick...”

Barbara finally let go of his hair, and pulled him to her again, so that they both fell down across the bedsheets. She turned around so that they faced each other once more, and he eagerly seized her thigh again, this time wrapping it around his waist with no inhibitions. Her arms tangled around his shoulders, clutching the back of his head, the two of them losing themselves in a messy kiss. He tasted her cum in her mouth, and the taste made him dizzy; he decided that he’d be going down on her absolute next chance he got. No guarantees that he wouldn’t completely lose himself in this woman.

Their chests pressed up together, their bare skin hot against each other, she whispered to him:

“Go ahead, baby.”

Dick took a deep breath and finally, _finally_ pushed into her.

The guttural, animalistic noises that came out of their mouths were almost embarrassing, but by God he didn’t care. Because if he’d thought _touching_ her was incredible, actually being _inside_ her put it to shame at once. Her hot wet pussy wrapped around him so perfectly, squeezing him as she moved.

For a moment, he was completely stunned into stillness.

Then he began to thrust into her, gently and tentatively at first, running his hands over her bare skin, savoring her beauty and the feeling of her.

“Harder,” she demanded, rippling against him.

He was surprised. But who was he to deny her?

His touch was still gentle, but his thrusts took on ferocity, suddenly pounding into her with enough force to make her gasp. Again, he feared hurting her, but her face showed no sign of pain or sorrow or worry, just open lust and affection.

“Y — you’re so beautiful,” he choked out, caught up in pleasure. “I — I’ve never not thought you were beautiful.”

“You really — so are you,” she assured him, her eyes shiny.

“I love you.”

She didn’t reply. But she did kiss him, lips pressed together as their bodies rocked hard in sync, wrapped around each other like climbing roses.

Eventually he felt her shaking, heard her shout in his ear and felt her second orgasm when it gushed down around him. He couldn’t help himself anymore, seconds later he came so hard his vision went fuzzy; lost in the rush of pleasure and love.

He fell out of her, and the two of them lay on opposite sides of the bed for a few minutes, skin still flushed, both of them panting hard. Then he looked over, and realized that her cheeks were shining.

“Why are you crying?”

“Oh, I just...” She wiped at her eyes. “You don’t want to hear about it.”

“C’mon. Try me.” He propped himself up on his side. “You know I’m already here for you. Besides, this’ll be the best pillow talk ever.”

She actually managed a scoff, wiping at her eyes. But she began talking again anyway.

“The thing about becoming handicapped, once I started working through the depression the shooting brought on, I found that my sex drive had really bounced back, and that it hadn’t lessened. At all.”

“Evidently. Go on.”

She nodded.

“But at the same time, when I had to fight to establish myself as strong and competent and capable, to be more than just a tragedy, it was hard to think of myself as attractive or as a sexual being. Side effect of never really seeing people like that in real life _or_ in stories, I suppose.”

She rolled over, pressing a hand to his cheek, stroking over the delicate skin.

“I’m working on it. Don’t worry. But um...” She cleared her throat, like it was hard to admit, “...it’s good to have you right now. You were right about the help thing, I think, much as I don’t always want to admit it. And you _do_ help me, so much.”

He took her back in his arms, and they held each other close.

“No matter whether things are good or bad, it’s always good when you’re here with me,” she murmured.

She hadn’t said it in so many words just yet, but he knew what she meant to say, that she _would_ eventually say it.

“Barbara...I’m always glad to be here with you.”

They kept holding each other, the night still hanging warm and soft throughout their city. He soon found himself falling asleep in her arms, just about to drift off for good when he finally heard the whispered words.

“I love you too.”


End file.
